


[In Which The Issue Is Handled Like Adults]

by Exal



Series: 12 Conversations About One Thing [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Family Issues, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Pie, Post-Canon, Pregnancy, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29215788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exal/pseuds/Exal
Summary: "It's a girl.  All my flowers told me so, remember?"  Postwar, post-marriage, after everything has settled down, this is how Gaius and Sumia decide how to name their impending child.
Relationships: Guire | Gaius/Sumia
Series: 12 Conversations About One Thing [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2133747
Kudos: 7





	[In Which The Issue Is Handled Like Adults]

###  **II: Gaius/Sumia [In which the issue is handled like adults]**

Sumia was out of pie crust, and, moreover, she was out of flour, which was a major problem. Lots of sweets needed flour! So Sumia quickly saddled up her pegasus and flew off to the baker's.

The midwife had recommended that Sumia not ride, as heavy with child as she was. Normally, Sumia would have listened, but the old biddy didn't know thing one about pegasi. Her mare, the very one who she had found wounded in the field a lifetime ago, wouldn't do a thing to harm Sumia or her unborn child. If it ever became dangerous for her to ride, the mare would know long before Sumia did.

Less than an hour later, Sumia made it to the greengrocer's, an errand she always liked. It was fascinating to see the many fruits, smell the plentiful scents, and chat with the grocer, who was a middle-aged woman who liked books almost as much as Sumia did. 

Sumia had just picked a good-sized bag of flour off the shelf when she heard a voice behind her say, “Sumia! My goodness, is that you?”

Sumia, startled, began to turn but tripped over her own feet and swiftly slammed, face-first, into the floor. The flour tumbled from her arms and the bag burst open, creating a white explosion across the floor. “Yes,” sighed the voice, “it is most definitely you.”

After brushing some flour off her eyelashes, Sumia looked up to see a woman in an elaborate pink dress looking down on her with a expression that ranged somewhere between contemplative and annoyed. “Yasmin!” Sumia said, picking herself up, “it's great to see you!”

“It is quite nice to see you too. It has been a while.”

“Since the wedding,” offered Sumia.

Yasmin's mauve eyebrows lowered a full half-inch. “Hm. Yes. Your marriage to...”

“Gaius,” volunteered Sumia.

Yasmin was about to say something else, but the grocer ran between the two women, and was now sweeping up the spilled flour. “Sorry, Miss Sumia,” said the woman, “but I will have to charge you for this.”

“Oh,” chirped Sumia, and was about to say that there was no problem when Yasmin interrupted. 

“I shall take care of the damages, and whatever else Sumia needs,” Yasmin declared. She smiled at Sumia. “I am always more than happy to support my sister.”

Sumia grinned back at Yasmin. “Oh, thank you! But, er, what are you doing here, anyway?”

Yasmin made a grunt of dubiety. “Believe it or not, this silly shop contains one of the better selections of exotic fruits I have found. I would not come myself, but none of my servants can tell a mango from a kiwano from a hole in the ground. Honestly, you cannot hire good help these days.”

“We should catch up!” said Sumia, “I have so much to tell you!”

Yasmin took a step back, though it may have just been to remove herself from the flour. “Well. Terribly sorry, Sumia, but my guardsman and carriage are waiting outside. I simply cannot--”

“Of course we can!” Sumia said, grabbing her sister by the wrist. “I know a great cafe right around the corner—we can sit there, and your carriage won't even notice you're gone!” She pulled Yasmin right out of the grocer's, although she did return moments later so Yasmin could settle their purchase.

* * *

Sumia had two older sisters. Yasmin was five years older than Sumia was, and Farah was seven years older. Both were intelligent, driven women and had long left the household before Sumia reached her awkward young adulthood. By the time their father pulled a few strings to get his uncoordinated daughter into knight training and then, for lack of anything else for Sumia to do, the Shepherds, Farah had become a full-fledged lawyer, and Yasmin had married the son of a reasonably powerful lord; both events helped to raise their family's social standing.

Sumia sat down with Yasmin at a small table outside the cafe. As they waited for the small refreshments they had ordered to arrive, Sumia asked, “So how is Farah doing?”

Yasmin let out a small scoff. “Oh, you know her. Always focusing on that career of hers.” Yasmin leaned in, her face nearing the flower that decorated their table. “Honestly, I don't know how she expects to ever get a husband, the way she acts.”

“Does she want to marry?” asked Sumia.

“Oh, Sumia,” said Yasmin, “Farah wants what we all want out of life, she just doesn't want to admit it. Wait until she's thirty and has to find a man before she goes barren, then she'll regret all this.” Sumia couldn't help but wonder why Yasmin was grinning at this.

A waitress dropped off their order, simple tea for Yasmin, tea and biscuits for Sumia. Yasmin sipped from her cup, and said, “Oh, congratulations on your blessed event.” She paused, then said, “Your coming child.”

“Oh!” chirped Sumia, “thank you! I've been reading everything about it I can, you know.”

“If you need help afterward, I can give you the names of the ladies who helped me after Angelica was born.”

Sumia swallowed a mouthful of biscuit while scratching her head. “No, it's fine. Cordelia—one of my friends from the Shepherds—is staying with me for the first week or so, and I already have stablemaidens lined up to look after the pegasi.”

“No, dear,” said Yasmin, “I mean...nursemaids, housekeepers, a decent chef. You can't very well do any sort of activity after such a thing as childbirth...you shall be much too busy convalescing.”

Sumia took a sip of tea to avoid answering. Nothing in the books she had read implied she was going to be an invalid after the baby. She gulped down the tea, suddenly less sweet in her mouth. “Well, Gaius will be there to help, of course,” she said.

“Who?” asked Yasmin, then her expression changed to one of combined realization and contempt. “Right, him.” She lowered her voice. “Confidentially, I wouldn't put too much tack in him. I have heard rumors that—and I only tell you this because I love you—he has taken to banditry.”

Sumia let out a chirp of confusion, and said, “Well, no, not that...Gaius is a thief.” 

Yasmin's face crumpled up. “What? No. I remember the wedding—he was introduced as a swordsman.”

Sumia thought. “Well, he was a swordsmaster in the war, but he doesn't do that professionally. ...Can you be a professional swordmaster?”

“Your husband...” hissed Yasmin, “steals things. For a living.”

Well, thought Sumia, that was simplifying things. She was just about to say something to that effect when Yasmin exploded at her.

“Gods dammit, Sumia, can't you do anything right?!” yelled Yasmin, standing. “Do you have any _idea_ what your childish behavior forces Father and I to do? Lady Toreador asked Father about you and the humiliation was almost more than I could bear! We said nothing to you when you decided to train as a pegasus knight, as we thought it might instill in you a sense of discipline! We said nothing when you went gallivanting off to war, not once but _twice_ , as if you were a common mercenary! We said nothing when you married a man of no title nor position that you had barely known for four months, and married in wartime, no less! Who _does_ that, Sumia?! And, Naga help us, we even stayed silent when you started that absurd pegasus ranch. We are a _noble house_ , Sumia! You are doing the job of a peasant! But now, now I learn that you married—that you are _having the child_ of a common guttersnipe?! I cannot stay my tongue any longer, sister! Consider your actions! Think about how they reflect on your family, and for once in your life, stop behaving so _selfishly!_ ”

Sumia quivered in her seat. All she could do was extend a hand towards the flower on the table and nervously pluck one silky petal off the bloom.

Yasmin swung her arm, violently knocking vase and flower to the ground. “And stop this nonsense!”

Yasmin straightened her clothing, then opened her coin sack and threw enough gold pieces onto the table to pay for the table's orders and the shattered vase both. “Grow up, Sumia,” she said, “your family will be waiting for you when you do.” 

Yasmin stormed away, quickly vanishing in the business of the street.

* * *

Sumia barely remembered flying home; indeed, her mare may have flown her home out of its own volition. Far too busy to pay attention to such things as where she was going, Sumia was only broken out of her reverie when she tripped over her own front stoop.

Yasmin hadn't been fair—Gaius was a thief, yes, but far from the cutpurse that the title brought to mind. If Sumia had only managed to explain...

Sure, he had done...regrettable things before they had met, but that didn't matter. In fact, now Gaius was one of those rarest of things—a thief whose reputation allowed him to choose his jobs. Chrom had even asked him to become royal spymaster, but Gaius had turned the position down. With the pedigree of being both a potential spymaster and having been a member of the Shepherds, more job offers came in than any man could handle. 

With job offers literally piling up, Gaius could finally refuse the meaningless revenge and the outright murder that was often requested. Now, Gaius only took the jobs that lived up to his moral standards. (A gentleman thief! Had Sumia not already been married to Gaius, she undoubtedly would have fallen in love with him all over again.)

On the occasions where Gaius decided to perform...freelance thievery, he was always sure to steal out-of-the-way trinkets from people with so much they wouldn't miss the occasional missing bauble. He then sold the filched miscellany for pittances out of a market stand, allowing for a little luxury among the commoners. On the off-chance some rich twit noticed the stolen object, every steward in the city knew of Gaius's stand. The steward would get credit for finding the “misplaced” item, and Gaius got a few coins for his trouble. 

Plus, of course, Gaius would happily lower prices if someone needed something badly enough. He occasionally remarked, “as long as it pays for one use of a lockpick, I got a profit.” Sumia would never see her husband as anything but noble.

Yes, thought Sumia, placing her groceries on the table and sitting down, Gaius was certainly not the problem here. Yasmin's problem had been...

Her thought process was interrupted by Gaius walking through the front door. “Hey, babe,” he said, tossing his cloak off. “I saw you flying home and tried to wave t'ya, but I guess you were distracted or...” Gaius looked in his wife's face. “Uh-oh, you're sad. Did a fictional character die?”

“No...” said Sumia, standing, or at least attempting to. She wobbled halfway up, and Gaius was immediately at her side, steadying her. They smiled at each other.

“I ran into Yasmin at the grocer's earlier,” stated Sumia. 

“That's your sister, right?” asked Gaius. Sumia nodded, and Gaius followed up with, “Is this your barrister-sister or your duchess-sister?”

“Duchess-sister. So we sat down to catch up, and...” In moments, the whole conversation with Yasmin spewed forth, everything that Yasmin had said. By the end, Sumia was close to tears. “...And I thought about it, and you're just about perfect, so...I'm the only one not good enough...”

Gaius sighed, and put the lollipop he had been sucking on into a handkerchief. Abruptly, he lifted Sumia off her feet, holding her in her arms. “Look, you know I'm not great at the whole...talking thing,” Gaius commented, “'Least not honestly. But I am good at one thing, and I know it'll cheer you up.”

Had Sumia still been recovering from her surprise at being hefted up, she would have corrected him. Gaius was good at so many things; his swordsmanship, his ability to embroider and craft, and his cooking, just to name a few. But, as he swiftly reminded her, there was another thing Gaius was simply excellent at. **_Gods_** , that man could use his tongue!

Afterwards, Gaius crawled up alongside her on the bed. “Feel better?”

Sumia brushed a lock of sweaty hair out of her eyes and willed her blush away. “...Mmm-hmm.”

“Listen,” said Gaius, “Maybe your sister, or your whole family, thinks you're not prissy and hoity-toity enough. That's their problem. Me, I think you're perfect, and if you asked Cynthia...she'd say the same thing.” 

He rubbed her stomach. “I'm sure when this one gets old enough to talk, she'll agree with me.” Sumia felt a sharp flutter underneath Gaius's warm hand. Gaius smiled at Sumia, and she smiled back.

“Hey, what're we gonna name this kiddo anyway?” Gaius asked.

“Cynthia, of course,” replied Sumia, “What else?”

“Well, I mean...What if it's a boy?”

“No, it's a girl,” stated Sumia, “All my flowers said so, remember?”

“Right,” said Gaius, “but, I don't know, what if she comes out with your hair or my eyes or something? What if she's not Cynthia?”

Sumia hadn't considered that. The baby _definitely_ wouldn't be Cynthia if she didn't have Gaius's oh-so-loveable ginger hair. She thought. “Mmmm...How about...Lakche?”

“Lakche?” asked Gaius. “Wait. First, that's a name from _Tales of the Holy War_. And second, it's not even a canon name.” 

“Well, what does that matter?” asked Sumia.

“If anything, it should be Larcei.”

Sumia tittered. “How do you know that?”

Gaius smirked. “I've been known to crack open a book occasionally,” he said, then stretched, cracking his back. “You know, how 'bout we continue this conversation in the kitchen? My stomach says it's dinnertime.”

“Oh, right!” said Sumia, “I was going to make a pie for you!”

“Dinner and dessert,” commented Gaius, “Am I lucky or what?”

As Gaius made for the kitchen and Sumia hefted herself off the bed, she thought for a moment. She was sure that it was Cynthia resting in her womb. But, if she was wrong...

Larcei was a good name too.


End file.
